The deep passageway was dim and lightless, so quiet one could hear the cold cavern wind scraping against the coarse stone walls—like the breath of a lurking beast.
"Whether I want to or not, I'll eventually walk this path, won't I?"
His tone carried a trace of helplessness.
Vera remained silent—because she had no way to refute it.
The Source of Magic, the Wild Hunt, the Royal Griffin, the Scurver, the Leshen, monster nests, swarms of necrophages, vessels for evil gods... and going back even further, the convergence of spheres, monstrous hordes, waves of wraiths...
Any one of those threats could have left an ordinary witcher dead and buried without a trace.
Most witcher masters of the Northern Continent wouldn't see half of that chaos in a lifetime.
If Allen hadn't progressed at a monstrous pace—and hadn't had a great deal of luck—he'd have died in wave after wave of calamity long ago.
The Child of Miracle!
Is this what they call the Child of Miracle?
Barely half a year had passed, and he had already suffered through countless ordeals.
What about the future?
What would he encounter next?
A true evil god?
Vera asked herself, tried putting herself in his place.
Advance or die... under such pressure, what other choice did her child have?
He had no choice. He could only go forward. Always forward.
Until the blood ran dry from his body, his flesh torn apart, and the clarity in his eyes was veiled over by the pale haze of death...
Vera shuddered violently in horror, unwilling to let her thoughts go further.
The cold cavern wind brushing against her bare arm felt more like a blade slicing her flesh, like hammers pounding her bones, like an awl piercing her heart.
"Lady Vera?"
Hearing Allen's voice, Vera snapped out of her bloody imagining. She jolted with a shiver and collapsed weakly, leaning against the stone wall.
"Lady Vera, what's wrong?" Allen stepped forward quickly when he saw her falter.
The sorceress's forearm, when touched, felt colder than the damp rock.
"I'm fine." Vera waved him off and straightened herself with the support of the wall.
"You must be exhausted from the last few days," Allen said, letting go once she stood firm. Feeling the chill around them, he added softly, "This passage is far too cold. Let's get out first and talk after."
No! I'm afraid!
Vera's gaze sketched Allen's figure. She wanted to scream, to wrap him in a tight embrace and take him far, far away—to the ends of the earth—to escape this terrifying fate.
But in the end, she only paused for a few seconds and gave a light nod.
Because she knew Allen would never agree to that. She had already tried countless times before the High Mountain Trial.
Her child was a hero—not a coward who would run.
Though she deeply wished he were the latter...
So then—what could she do?
"Let's go," Vera withdrew her gaze from Allen's face and slowly walked toward the exit of the passage. "We'll talk about the Legacy Vessel on the way."
Allen, still thinking about how to persuade her, was briefly stunned. Then his face lit up with a smile. "Alright, Lady Vera."
-----------------------------------
Creak, creak~
The heavy stone door of the secret passage ground shut behind them, sealing seamlessly.
With a snap of her fingers, Vera restored everything in front of the chamber—down to the dust patterns on the floor—to its original state. It was impossible to tell that the empty wall before them was actually the entrance to a hidden passage.
"How much do you know about the Legacy Vessel?" Vera glanced at Allen and began descending the staircase.
"I only know the name," Allen shook his head. "Judging from that, I'd guess it's either a vessel forged from 'great deeds,' or a vessel used to contain those deeds?"
Vera nodded. "You guessed right. A Legacy Vessel is a container forged from great deeds."
"And great deeds are...?"
"Literally, they're grand undertakings—achievements worthy of being remembered and praised," Vera explained. "But in truth, what constitutes a Legacy Vessel isn't the actions themselves."
"It's the intense emotions—admiration, reverence, and more—evoked in intelligent beings after those deeds are passed down and known."
"Through a specific ritual process of purification, refinement, and condensation, these emotions are fused with the strength and body of the person who accomplished the deed. That's what forms the Legacy Vessel."
"It applies to both sorcerers and witchers alike," she added. "The only difference lies in how the 'legacy' is achieved."
Sounds a bit like the path of apotheosis through faith… Allen suddenly felt like he was reading one of those Western fantasy novels about becoming a god.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized how different it actually was.
In his previous life, he'd read many such stories and played fantasy games built on similar systems. The steps to deification through faith were fairly standard:
Plant a cognitive imprint among a certain group of people through extreme events—anchoring divinity.
Then, codify that abstract belief system into a transmissible symbolic system—divine doctrines, like those written on an "Oracle Tablet."
Create a divine vessel, and through ritual, ignite the gathered divinity within it—tempering the divine flame.
Extract specific domains from the chaos of faith, sever conflicting aspects—refining pure divinity.
Tear a rift in the astral plane and use collective dreamscapes of followers to build a divine realm—constructing the god domain.
At that point, within the framework of belief-based ascension, one would be considered a god already. However, one usually still had to undergo a divine trial by combat—Godwar—to be accepted by existing deities.
Even then, continuous faith absorption was necessary, but the more followers one had, the more the divine personality would be distorted by their wishes.
So becoming a god through faith was actually a massive trap in most settings.
While the Legacy Vessel seemed similar to the "divine vessel and divine flame" step, Allen had originally assumed it was something like that.
But according to Vera, what mattered was not the cognitive imprint left on the intelligent group, but the emotions they experienced because of the deed.
The "material" of a Legacy Vessel wasn't the deed itself—it was the emotion.
After thinking for a moment, Allen asked, "If the 'great deed' forms the material of the Legacy Vessel, then what exactly is the vessel for?"
"What is the purpose of achieving a great deed and constructing such a container?"
"You're very perceptive." Vera gave a faint smile of appreciation. "The purpose of creating a Legacy Vessel is, of course, to harness power—what we call Almighty Force and Sage's Power."
"Almighty Force, Sage's Power…" Allen frowned slightly.
"Strength, speed, physique, perception, magic…"
"Almighty Force can be converted into strength, speed, physique, and perception. Sage's Power converts into perception and magic."
Allen was momentarily stunned.
He had thought Almighty Force and Sage's Power were simply two names for the same thing—he hadn't expected them to be two entirely different abilities.
This was completely different from the truly Almighty divine powers in the fantasy novels of his previous life.
But Vera didn't explain further. Instead, she seemed to change the subject. "Do you know Geoffrey Monck?"
"A member of the Novigradian Union, founder of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, and that warlock who was fond of capturing Djinns?"
Djinns were one of the four elemental spirits forming the foundation of the Witcher world's structure—powerful air spirits filled with magic and elemental essence, possessing both sentience and personality.
And like the genie in Aladdin from his previous life, Djinns could grant wishes.
According to legend, even the most impossible wishes could be fulfilled by a Djinn.
In the original story, Yennefer once tried to capture a Djinn to restore her fertility. But due to a series of coincidences, she and Geralt became bound by fate, resulting in a turbulent romantic relationship.
Such magical beings were, of course, extremely difficult to find and capture.
And yet Geoffrey Monck, unlike other members of the Novigradian Union and founders of the Brotherhood whose names had faded into obscurity, was remembered to this day for his tales of capturing Djinns—a testament to his true strength.
Still, Allen couldn't help but wonder why Vera was bringing him up now.
Snap—
A crisp snap of fingers.
Without waiting for Allen to ask, Vera lit the wall torches in the corridor and nodded gently, her voice calm and steady: "The human body has limits."
"Whether it's a sorcerer or a witcher, no matter how much they train or strengthen themselves, their physique and magic will eventually reach a ceiling—unable to improve any further."
"Geoffrey Monck was among the first Northerners to master ancient racial magic, and also the first to hit the sorcerer's limit."
"So Geoffrey Monck invented the method to forge a Legacy Vessel in order to break through the limits of humanity?" Allen asked curiously.
Vera nodded… then shook her head.
"The method for forging Legacy Vessels came from the ancient races. It wasn't Geoffrey Monck's invention."
"But he was the one who unearthed a similar means of surpassing limits through archaeological work, and then refined it using Djinn-granted wishes and his mastery of ancient magic—tailoring the method to suit human sorcerers."
"Of course, even then, the process was extremely difficult—and extremely dangerous."
"For every ten who attempted it, fewer than one survived. If you failed, your body and soul would scatter into the wind."
"At that time, the Brotherhood of Sorcerers had just been established, and knowledge was passed down from master to apprentice. So the experiments didn't last long before Geoffrey Monck himself put a stop to them."
"Later on, it's said he and the other members of the Novigradian Union continued to research the next steps in secret."
The two of them walked to a pointed arch window adorned with flame-scorched patterns. Outside, half-elves were still being trained under the scolding of their Witcher mentor.
In the blink of an eye, several more scratches had appeared on the apprentices' bodies.
"Did he succeed?" Allen asked.
"He disappeared without a trace," Vera shook her head. "A long time later, Herbert Stammelford of the TChapter of the Gift and the Art divined his death and took up his cause. After several generations of experimentation, they finally developed the current method used by the Brotherhood of Sorcerers to forge Legacy Vessels."
Allen blinked, then suddenly realized something, concern rising in his voice. "All this… am I even allowed to hear it?"
"Not the rest," Vera said with a gentle smile, withdrawing her gaze from the half-elves outside. "What I just told you was only a story. What must be kept secret is the actual procedure."
Allen nodded. It was just like how the development history and swordsmanship traits of the Wolf, Griffin, and Bear Schools were publicly known. The schools themselves spread the word so that potential clients could make an informed choice.
But the actual training methods and power techniques of their two-handed swords were closely guarded secrets.
"However…"
Vera paused, her ruby-red eyes locking onto Allen's gaze as she said nonchalantly,
"Since you have the talent of a sorcerer, I'll find a way around the secrecy contract."
For some reason, her gaze burned like the midday sun in summer. Allen shifted his eyes uncomfortably.
"There's probably no need," he said. "Isn't there also a method for Witchers to condense a Legacy Vessel?"
"By the way, you were just talking about how the method for sorcerers to forge Legacy Vessels was improved by Geoffrey Monck and Herbert Stammelford."
"What about the Witchers' method?"
"Was it Herbert Stammelford too?"
"No, not Herbert Stammelford," Vera shook her head. "It was someone else—another figure who left a great mark in history. And I'm sure you know him."
"Who?" Allen had barely asked when a name sprang into his mind.
"Alzur!"
The Witcher and the sorceress spoke in unison.
Vera was momentarily taken aback, then nodded slightly. "That's right. Alzur."
"Doesn't it strike you as odd?"
"Witchers were created by the mage Cosimo Malaspina and his apprentice Alzur—yet Alzur is the one more widely known as the 'father' of Witchers."
"Why does the apprentice overshadow the master?"
Allen paused, then said, "I always thought it was because Cosimo Malaspina died earlier than Alzur… or that Alzur contributed more to the Witchers than Cosimo did…"
"No," Vera interrupted him. "It's the opposite. Alzur interfered too much in The War of Daggers over the Temerian throne and, due to releasing an unstable Double Cross Summoning, was killed at a very young age by a Viy."
"Cosimo Malaspina outlived Alzur by a long time."
"Besides, the Witcher program was led by Cosimo, and at the time, it was considered a failure."
"So why is Alzur more famous than Cosimo Malaspina for a project that ultimately failed?"
Without waiting for an answer, Vera continued, "Because even though the Witcher project was seen as a failure, Alzur achieved something far beyond what all other sorcerers—no, even beyond what the legendary Grand Mages of the Chapter of the Gift and the Art—had ever imagined…"
Allen swallowed hard, feeling a dryness in his mouth.
"Yes," Vera nodded. "He proved that it was possible for ordinary humans to physically transcend their natural limits in a theoretically reproducible way. He created an example."
"The basis of the 'Superhuman Theory' that drove the Rissberg Civil Cooperative Organization to madness—the idea that the human genome could be completed to surpass non-human races physically and mentally—was laid by Alzur."
"Then why did the Witcher project fai—" Allen began to ask, but cut himself off mid-sentence.
Vera answered anyway. "Because after that one successful example, it was never replicated again."
"Alzur and Cosimo Malaspina eventually gave up on the 'Superhuman Theory' when it failed to produce results, deciding it was a waste of time."
"But because of that one success, Alzur surpassed his master and became famous."
"You've heard of that example too," Vera sighed, glancing back toward the secret passage.
"His name… was Sol. Sol Henrietta."
.....
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